Read Online Belmary House Book Two by Cassidy Cayman - Free Book Online
Authors: Cassidy Cayman
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back of her hair to keep her there, finally rolling her over so he was atop her, looking down with such dark intensity that tears sprang to her eyes.
She quickly blinked them away in case he misunderstood, not wanting any part of reality for the moment. He leaned down and licked her lower lip, gently nipping at it with his teeth, finally claiming her mouth with his tongue. She dizzily forgot everything except his heated body, his questing hands and mouth. He’d somehow got out of his breeches while she was lost in his kisses, and when she felt his hard length against her, she sighed and wrapped her legs around him.
“Yes, yes, yes,” she murmured, brushing his hair away to better see his eyes.
They were dark and intent on her. He shook his head slightly before dropping his forehead to the crook of her neck.
“Let’s go fast this time, Matilda,” he said raggedly before pushing into her, sliding away sinuously, and advancing again, kissing away her eager sound of agreement.
He’d never been this way before, desperate and greedy, almost frantic to be as close to her as possible. She felt the same, needing his body to wash away the lingering fear and grief, even if it was only for these moments, and ruthlessly dug her fingers into his back to keep him near.
It only took a moment until she was lost in the swelling pleasure he always gave and as she lay breathlessly coming back to herself, she wondered if it was healthy that he could have her gasping at the barest touch. Even his smile made her melt.
“You’re dangerous,” she said.
He quickly rolled off her, misunderstanding. He kissed down the side of her, resting his cheek against her heart and she curled her arms around him, trying to kiss the top of his head as he lay alongside her. He chuckled and stroked her breast, running his thumb across her nipple before taking it in his mouth. She arched her back and tried to get him back on top of her, but he was going to be leisurely now. Realizing he didn’t want it to end enveloped her in a warm glow.
The feeling of being special to someone who loved and wanted her as much as she did, was something she’d never experienced before. She wanted to make sure he felt the same and pulled his head back so she could kiss him, wriggling to straddle him. Pushing his shoulders into the bunchy straw mattress, she sinuously slid her body along his length. He trailed his fingers down her sides, finally gripping her behind and pulling her close.
“You’re the one who’s dangerous, Matilda.”
She slowly, slowly made her way down, kissing and licking and taking note of each freckle or scar. She had a fleeting, desolate feeling that she needed to hold onto him as if this was goodbye, and she tried to drive it away, showing him how much she needed him with her touch.
It was some time before they were exhausted and spent and still they clung to one another long after the candle burned itself out, the only light left the soft glow of the dying fire.
She watched him eyeing the fireplace, his relaxed and sated face slipping back into its familiar scowl, and she knew he planned to get out of bed any second. She got him in a grapple hold, as tight as she could in her weakened state.
“Don’t worry about the fires,” she said. “Just rebuild them in the morning.”
“You’ll say otherwise when your bones are creaking from the cold. What’s that warm place you come from, that you talk about every time the wind blows from the north?”
She laughed, and let go of him, watching with appreciation as he loaded more logs onto the fire and expertly got it blazing again. He wrapped his old dressing gown, that she’d been using since she arrived in his time, around his naked form and ran downstairs to check the fire in the dining hall. She dozed off a little while waiting for him to return, and smiled sleepily as he got back under the blankets with her.
“We’ll finish it tomorrow, I suppose,” he said, sounding like someone
She quickly blinked them away in case he misunderstood, not wanting any part of reality for the moment. He leaned down and licked her lower lip, gently nipping at it with his teeth, finally claiming her mouth with his tongue. She dizzily forgot everything except his heated body, his questing hands and mouth. He’d somehow got out of his breeches while she was lost in his kisses, and when she felt his hard length against her, she sighed and wrapped her legs around him.
“Yes, yes, yes,” she murmured, brushing his hair away to better see his eyes.
They were dark and intent on her. He shook his head slightly before dropping his forehead to the crook of her neck.
“Let’s go fast this time, Matilda,” he said raggedly before pushing into her, sliding away sinuously, and advancing again, kissing away her eager sound of agreement.
He’d never been this way before, desperate and greedy, almost frantic to be as close to her as possible. She felt the same, needing his body to wash away the lingering fear and grief, even if it was only for these moments, and ruthlessly dug her fingers into his back to keep him near.
It only took a moment until she was lost in the swelling pleasure he always gave and as she lay breathlessly coming back to herself, she wondered if it was healthy that he could have her gasping at the barest touch. Even his smile made her melt.
“You’re dangerous,” she said.
He quickly rolled off her, misunderstanding. He kissed down the side of her, resting his cheek against her heart and she curled her arms around him, trying to kiss the top of his head as he lay alongside her. He chuckled and stroked her breast, running his thumb across her nipple before taking it in his mouth. She arched her back and tried to get him back on top of her, but he was going to be leisurely now. Realizing he didn’t want it to end enveloped her in a warm glow.
The feeling of being special to someone who loved and wanted her as much as she did, was something she’d never experienced before. She wanted to make sure he felt the same and pulled his head back so she could kiss him, wriggling to straddle him. Pushing his shoulders into the bunchy straw mattress, she sinuously slid her body along his length. He trailed his fingers down her sides, finally gripping her behind and pulling her close.
“You’re the one who’s dangerous, Matilda.”
She slowly, slowly made her way down, kissing and licking and taking note of each freckle or scar. She had a fleeting, desolate feeling that she needed to hold onto him as if this was goodbye, and she tried to drive it away, showing him how much she needed him with her touch.
It was some time before they were exhausted and spent and still they clung to one another long after the candle burned itself out, the only light left the soft glow of the dying fire.
She watched him eyeing the fireplace, his relaxed and sated face slipping back into its familiar scowl, and she knew he planned to get out of bed any second. She got him in a grapple hold, as tight as she could in her weakened state.
“Don’t worry about the fires,” she said. “Just rebuild them in the morning.”
“You’ll say otherwise when your bones are creaking from the cold. What’s that warm place you come from, that you talk about every time the wind blows from the north?”
She laughed, and let go of him, watching with appreciation as he loaded more logs onto the fire and expertly got it blazing again. He wrapped his old dressing gown, that she’d been using since she arrived in his time, around his naked form and ran downstairs to check the fire in the dining hall. She dozed off a little while waiting for him to return, and smiled sleepily as he got back under the blankets with her.
“We’ll finish it tomorrow, I suppose,” he said, sounding like someone
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